Chapter 14 of 15
I heard talk of the slaying of Caiaphas all afternoon, but many rumors sweep the city these days – and so even as I knew that the reports must be true, I hoped that they were not. But last evening, just after the setting of the sun, one of the servants of Caiaphas came to my door. As soon as I saw him and read his eyes, I knew that the old priest was gone.
But the servant had not come to tell me of the death of Caiaphas – in fact, he assumed that I already knew. Instead, he had come to tell me of the great man's last words. It seems that, just as Caiaphas had crumbled at the feet of his horrified servants, he had spoken my name – in fact, he had looked at the servant who now appeared before me and had said "Enoch" as if he thought that it was I who knelt beside him. "Enoch," he said again, and he grabbed the servant's hand with surprising strength. "Enoch, tell them." And then his eyes closed, and his hand went limp, and he spoke no more.
The servant was puzzled as to the meaning of his master's last words – but although I made no effort to enlighten the servant, I knew just what the old priest was trying to tell me. And so I find myself writing to you, my dear brother, to keep a promise that I made to a priest, a promise that I did not intend to honor while the priest was alive, but a promise that I cannot bring myself to dishonor now that he is dead.
| Next |  |
[ Enoch Home Page | Selected Writings ]
©2004 Henry Charles Mishkoff